You Can Tell Me How Vile I Already Know that I Am
by mykindofparty
Summary: Sometimes Finn just needs help buying presents and accidentally spies on Brittany and Santana making out in the hallway. Set during 3x09.


**You Can Tell Me How Vile I Already Know That I Am**

**Pairings:** Brittany/Santana, Finn/Rachel  
**Genre:** Humor/Friendship  
**Summary:** Sometimes Finn just needs help buying presents and accidentally spies on Brittany and Santana making out in the hallway. Set during 3x09.

**A/N:** Ok, so I wrote this back in January, but FF wouldn't let me upload it at the time. And I forgot about it until now. As always, thanks for reading. Enjoy!

* * *

He's the last one out of the choir room and making his way to his truck when he turns a corner and spots Brittany and Santana huddled together in an otherwise deserted hallway. Finn wonders if maybe he should just go back the way he came because he doesn't want to interrupt their moment and risk getting kicked in the groin. He decides to wait it out because this really is the quickest way to the parking lot and it's not creepy if he pretends to tie his shoelace, right? Well, that's what he tells himself, anyway. Besides, this won't take too long.

"So do you like it?" Santana asks her girlfriend.

"Like it? I love it, Santana," Brittany replies, giving her a peck on the lips.

The hallway's dim due to McKinley's constant budget cuts, but Finn thinks he maybe sees a tear or two fall down Santana's cheek. "I knew you would," she tells Brittany. "It's just that I'm going to miss you so much while you're in New Mexico and even though we're not exchanging presents until you get back I wanted to give you something especially for your trip."

"I'm going to read it every night before I go to bed," Brittany promises, wiping a tear off Santana's face gently with one hand and clutching a note in the other. "And probably every morning when I wake up and probably a couple of other times, too."

"Keep it away from Lord Tubbington though. It's for your eyes only," Santana flirts, her weeping long forgotten.

Brittany banters back saying, "Oh, he has plenty of reading material for the car ride. My diary entries have been super interesting lately. This girl, who's always been a main feature, became my girlfriend and now I can't stop writing even more awesome things about her. I guess I must have the same effect on her since she wrote me this love letter."

"School's not out for a couple more days," Santana whispers, barely loud enough for Finn to hear. "So don't be too surprised if more letters appear where you least expect them."

This time when Brittany kisses her, it's full and passionate and Finn looks away out of respect. "I have to go," Brittany says. "Dad's office party is tonight and I have to babysit. Mom said you can't come over since the last time the two of us babysat together we left cum stains on the couch after the brat went to bed."

Finn almost chokes on his own spit, but Santana laughs. "She did not say that."

"Maybe not in so many words."

"Your bedroom is right next to your sister's! At least the couch is downstairs."

"That's what I tried to tell her, but she still made me rent a steam cleaner with my allowance. Anyway, I love you and sext me later."

"You can count on that," Santana says. Brittany saunters away and Finn follows Santana's line of sight straight to Brittany's ass. It mesmerizes him for a second until he feels his phone vibrate. Loudly. It must be in the same pocket as his keys.

"Okay – whoever has been spying on me and my girlfriend, come out so I can slowly extract your testicles from the rest of your body," Santana demands, turning to look at the corner where Finn is still bent down behind it. "Don't bother running. I didn't make Cheerios captain by having shitty endurance. I'm pretty fast, too. Running from the Lima PD will do that."

He stands, stretches his back out, and takes a step forward. He waves sheepishly and he can tell she's not amused. "Hey."

Santana rolls her eyes when she sees who it is. "You're a worse spy than Mr. Magoo, Flabio."

"I really didn't mean to… I was tying my shoe and–"

"Look, I don't really care to hear your lame excuse. I probably should kick your ass, but it's almost Christmas. So go– if you don't hurry the other pigs will eat all the slop and you'll have to lick the feeding trough clean."

"Santana," he says, "I just wanna say I really liked your letter idea. I want to do something romantic like that for Rachel, but the thing is I'm not always so good with words."

"Yeah? You seemed pretty good with them when you were outing me in this same hallway," she snarls. "Sorry – I know we supposedly buried that hatchet, but sometimes my anger gets the best of me."

He's a little surprised by her apology, but he continues, "Do you think you could help me? She also said something about earrings. Doesn't, like, Claire's sell those?"

"I _am_ going to the mall tonight to buy Britt's present since she'll be busy," she says. "And I guess even Jews deserve something for Christmas."

"So is that a yes?" he asks hopefully. "Rachel's kind of hard to please… and scary."

She shrugs. "Rachel and I are both extremely high maintenance – the difference being Brittany keeps me grounded with her delightful enthusiasm and subtle wit. As for you… well, I think we can all agree Rachel's floating in outer space."

"Outer space? That's it! I thought of some sentimental crap!" Finn says, digging his car keys out of his pocket. He's just had an epithelia or an epinephrine – epiphany, that's it – and he needs to write his idea down before he forgets. "I gotta go, but I'll meet you at the food court at seven!"

Santana stands there, confused. "Men are such idiots," she mutters, before firing off a text to her sweet, beautiful girlfriend. "Thank God I'm a lesbian."


End file.
